Pride's Folly
by wingeddserpent
Summary: Tseng has remarkable focus. Rated for stalking and imaginary sexual content.


She moves with the blurred efficiency of someone who has spent her whole life running, which really isn't surprising, now that he decides to think on it. Hand clutching the little girl's, her face is set with a determination few others can match, but she never spares so much as a glance for anyone else, despite the fact she must know their fate.

Well, if nothing else, she's always been prudent. She'll save the one she can, rather than risk everything for others.

There's no touch of panic in her face, in fact, she weaves through people with that same grace she has when running down deserted alleys and hopping rooftops. The hand not holding the girl's twitches toward her staff, but that's the only indication she's not calm and serene as ever. But he knows from experience that she's aware and ready, and she'll not go without a fight. And it would be rather detrimental to harm her, after all. Hojo wants her whole and alive—and that's what he'll get. Tseng has never done anything half-way.

Neatly, he steps in front of her, gun right on the girl's forehead, and Aeris stops, full on, eyes sparking with fear and fury. It's a good look on her—

(_his fingers running through her long brown hair, her mouth wet and parted, a moan_)

And he says, voice crisp as the suit he wears, "Hello, Aeris."

"Tseng," her voice is flat, which is as close to hostile as she'll let herself get. "Please, move."

From anyone else, the please would be a plea, but Aeris Gainsborough doesn't know how to beg, has never gotten on her knees and asked for anything, except for maybe Zack's return, and a please from her is an _order_ and he follows no one's orders, save the President's and Heidegger's, and he allows himself a small smile. "Perhaps we can come to some sort of agreement," he says.

(_get on your knees and open wide)_

Her nostrils flare, but she glances behind them, at the support beam of the plate, and then she looks back at him, and he smirks, crooking his finger. The girl's got tears streaming down her face, clinging to Aeris's hand, instinctively knowing that Aeris will save her.

Really, it's almost too easy.

"Let me get her to my mother," Aeris says.

What begins as an order sounds a plea; Tseng beckons them forward with his gun. Aeris's movements are stiff, tension writ in the elegant lines of her back as she marches ahead of him, and he allows himself a moment to watch the sway of her hips, the way her hair swings in time with her harsh gait, the way her fingers tighten and loosen around the girl's.

Aeris has always been a beautiful, contradicting creature.

(_beg, beg, beg for me_)

For all her perceived innocence, she is anything but; for all that she seems defenseless, she can survive.

(_her tongue worked itself into Zack's mouth, she'd smiled when he'd unzipped her dress; the boy had been surprised at her willingness, but Tseng had been more surprised it had taken her this long, slum rat that she was_)

But that nobility that so rarely showed itself in her nature (how many saps had she roped into 'walking her home', how many men had she seduced for a night of safety?) is today her undoing, and she clutches the girl's hand and looks back at Sector Seven, and then straightens her shoulders, and meets Tseng's gaze with eyes that _burn_; were he a lesser man, he'd shudder, and not for fear.

Her expression twists with anger, with something like hatred (even for all the harsh lines brushed over with flowers and dresses, she cannot manage that ugly feeling, not truly), and she turns forward, whispering to the girl. Tseng clears his throat, taps his finger on the trigger. They fall silent.

(_her dress pulled over her hips, legs spread impossibly wide, eyes gone glassy_)

Sector Five continues as it always does, and Aeris navigates through it like water, flowing with a cadence all her own, or perhaps she follows the pulse of the Planet but that's horribly sentimental and he left that part of himself in Wutai long, long ago. "Marlene," she says, voice calm and even, "We're almost there, and then you're going to stay with my mom, okay?"

Oh, but does she lie like a Turk.

"Okay," she whispers.

Aeris smiles—reassuring and beautiful and completely meaningless.

(_her mouth curved upwards, her breath coming in heavy pants, "more, more, more" like a prayer_)

They weave their way through the Sector, to the house that he has spent more time than exactly necessary watching—

(_her thighs pale against the bedspread of her bed, fingers working busily, her eyes shut with concentration, biting her lip, oh—and she'd found that spot, arched_)

And her mother runs out and eyes him with fear and distrust; Aeris tenses, knowing, and she says, "Mom, will you look after Marlene for me?" she swallows the truth (oh, and she'll always pretend it comes naturally for her, but she's a liar first, and everything else second) and says, "I need to take care of a few things."

It's not a lie meant for Elmyra, however. No, it's meant for this Marlene, but the girl is still watching his gun with terrified eyes, and Aeris reaches out and places her hand on the girl's head and smiles.

Aeris swivels to face him and she meets his gaze. "I'm ready," she says.

Desperate, the girl grabs for Aeris's hand, and Aeris kneels, and deftly pulls Marlene's hand to her mouth. "I'll see you soon," she lies, "Don't worry."

With a heavy sigh, Elmyra steps forward and pulls Marlene away; Aeris stands and Tseng nods, once; she lets him lead her out. They're half-way out of Sector Five when she tries to bolt—not that it surprises him, because Aeris is the liar with the innocent eyes. She ducks down a deserted alleyway, feet hard on the concrete, and he pursues, adrenaline pumping through his veins. Fire crackles at her fingertips and he throws a magic barrier up just in time.

Aeris nearly gets to the end of the alleyway, into the hustle and bustle of the streets where finding her would take more time than he'd care to spend on her, by time he throws himself at her, holstering his gun the moment before he leaps.

Both of them tumble to the ground, him on top, and she flails, snarling, and her nails come up to his face, biting deep, and then he pins her wrists above her head, and she looks up at him with those green eyes that can't show hate, but would if they could, and he smirks. "Valiant effort, Aeris, but I'm afraid you've eluded us for too long," he says, "Now, if you'll maintain your end of the bargain?"

(_"Tseng," she breathed, and then laughed, and then threw her head back, moaning_)

There's no fear on her face—she doesn't know fear, he's positive, and maybe that's where his fascination lies: he'd like to show her.

(_or maybe it's the way her eyes look half-lidded, the way her hair looks tangled and mussed, the way her skin looks sweat-slicked_)

Her next fire spell doesn't break through his magic barrier and he smirks as she sighs, and she settles back into his touch, unfamiliar though it is, and she looks at him, expression hard and not soft like comes to her so easily when she's pulling wool over the eyes of people not blessed enough to see her for what she is. But she's never fooled him and never will; he quite likes it that way. Likes that she has been, and always will be, bared before his eyes.

"Let's just go," she murmurs, hollow but not afraid.

It's only then he calls in the helicopter. Oh, and victory is so much sweeter when it's been won at the expense of another's pride.

But Aeris steps onto the copter with a straight back and a determination in her step. Unafraid.


End file.
